The Day the Music Died
by kissacazador
Summary: Dean and Sam discover that several people over the last forty-five years have heard an airplane crash and screaming coming from an area covering over 300 miles between Iowa to Minnesota and think it might be Buddy Holly, J. P. 'The Big Bopper' Richardson and Ritchie Valens.


******The Day the Music Died**

**Summary**: Dean and Sam discover that several people over the last forty-five years have heard an airplane crash and screaming coming from an area covering over 300 miles between Iowa to Minnesota and think it might be Buddy Holly, J. P. 'The Big Bopper' Richardson and Ritchie Valens.

Rated **T **

**Author's Notes**: This one-shot takes place in Season One and is based on the real life event of three rock 'n' roll singers dying in a plane crash on February 3, 1959. I have changed the name of the pilot to _Steve McDaniel_ out of respect to the real pilot and his family. I only intend to entertain readers, not offend them, so I will not be bashing the memory of _anyone_, including those who may or may not be responsible for the crash.

The song _American Pie_ was sung and written by Don McLean for United Artists Record Label and released in November, 1971.

And this story will be **dedicated** to the family, friends and fans of Buddy Holly, J. P. 'The Big Bopper' Richardson, Ritchie Valens and the pilot, Roger Peterson.

A shout-out to the amazing **deanstheman** for beta-ing this...thanks!

I Do Not Own 'Supernatural', it belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW and I'm only using it for the entertainment of this story.

**The Day the Music Died**

It was a beautiful afternoon in Fayetteville, Arkansas, a balmy sixty degrees despite being early February. The Winchester brothers were enjoying a quick sandwich outside of a cafe located near a local park, which was filled with families enjoying the unusual 'spring-like' weather.

"Damn, this deep-fried turkey BLT with onion rings is awesome!" Dean almost shouted with his mouth completely full.

"Uh, don't talk with food in your mouth…it's gross," Sam said with a scrunched face.

Dean set the sandwich down. "Sorry that my eating is causing you to bitch, but my damn stomach is finally feeling well enough to eat, so I'm gonna eat and enjoy it."

Sam sighed as his brother began eating again. "If you hadn't pigged-out at that Chinese buffet, your stomach wouldn't have been upset for two days."

Dean simply nodded, adding more food into his already full mouth.

"I hope she was worth it."

Dean chewed the remaining bites while thinking about his last date. "Oh yeah…she was. I swear she was in last April's edition."

"Dude, you're gross," Sam sneered. "I bet you don't even remember her name… and no, it wasn't 'Miss April'."

"Sammy, just because that chick was a _Busty Asian Beauties _centerfold, doesn't mean I was with her just for her hotness."

"Yeah, right," Sam remarked, eating his salad. "What was her name then?"

Dean smirked. "Asia…her name was Asia."

"Dean!" the youngest Winchester shouted in annoyance, alerting several passerby's as well. "Alice…her name was Alice."

Dean processed that thought. "Oh…well, that makes sense why she sometimes gave me your bitch look."

"Jeez, she probably thought you were a racist," Sam said. "When will you ever learn?"

The beautiful blonde waitress brought them the check and flirted with Dean. "Here's my number, sugar, so if you're ever back in these parts, call me."

"Yeah babe, I will," Dean smiled back, leaving her a big tip.

Sam shook his head in defeat and finished his meal while scanning the local paper. "Hmm…interesting."

"What?" Dean asked, eyes still watching the beautiful waitress walking away.

Sam read the article out loud. "Several people for the past forty-five years have heard the sound of an airplane crash and screaming coming from an area covering over three hundred miles between Minnesota and Iowa. However, no plane has ever been found and no bodies."

"That's a wide space…is there a common bond or something?"

Sam shook his head and continued reading. "It starts in Moorhead, Minnesota and ends in Clear Lake, Iowa…the same path year after year."

Dean began choking.

"Dude, just chew slowly," Sam said, sliding his bottled water over.

"Moorhead! Clear Lake!" Dean shouted as Sam nodded in confusion. "Seriously…the common bond is so obvious."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense."

"The plane crash…the screaming…forty-five years straight," Dean replied. "It was the day the music died."

Sam sat there with a confused stare.

"Sammy, _the day the music died_ was when Buddy Holly, J. P. 'The Big Bopper' Richardson and Ritchie Valens were killed. The plane was leaving Clear Lake en route to Moorhead…you had it backwards."

"What?" Sam questioned. "How do you know that?"

Dean snickered. "How do _you_ **_not_** know that_?"_

"I'm confused as hell, so what do we do about it?"

Dean stood up. "We gotta get to Clear Lake before the plane takes off tomorrow."

Sam looked at his watch. "It's almost four o'clock and it'll take us nine hours to get to Sioux Falls, South Dakota from here. Then another three hours from there to Iowa, plus, we still need to stop in Tulsa, Oklahoma for that spell book that Bobby needs us to pick up."

"Don't worry, Sammy, my baby will get Bobby his herbs that we collected and we'll still be in plenty time to help those pioneers of rock 'n' roll."

"Since when do you say _pioneers_ or _rock 'n' roll?"_ Sam asked as they climbed into the Impala.

"Well somebody has to teach you about music history and for now it'll be me and Don McLean," Dean replied, searching through his many cassette tapes in the glove compartment.

"Who's Don McLean?"

"So far, you're making a lousy student," the older brother mocked while _American Pie_ blared through the speakers. "Good thing we're in a Chevrolet and I'm an awesome singer:"

"_The day the music died  
I started singing_

_Bye, bye Miss American Pie  
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry  
And them good ol' boys were drinking whiskey and rye  
Singing this'll be the day that I die  
This'll be the day that I die…"_

Finally making it to Bobby's house, the brothers quickly ate and showered before leaving the older hunter a note explaining what was happening while he was away gathering more items for his potions and spells.

Sam studied his laptop on the short journey to the small town and agreed that they were following the right trail of the pioneers of rock 'n' roll. "Where do you wanna begin?"

"I guess we need to search the properties of Albert Juhl and Oscar Moffett since that's where the plane crashed."

Sam soon located the area on the map and gave his brother the directions as Buddy Holly sang in the background. "I'm stunned that you know these songs," Sam said. "Not exactly your style."

"Dude, all classic rock is my style…this is how it all began."

"Umm, when we uh, get there….we're uh, gonna have to uh, you know," Sam quietly stuttered.

"You mean salt and burn what's left of them? ...yeah, I know."

Seeing the heartache on his brother's face, Sam made a quick suggestion. "Or maybe we could just help them move on by pleading with them."

Dean nodded. "We need to do what's best for all, no matter how it has to be done."

The streets were full of fans visiting for the annual memorial, thus Dean had to blend the Impala in. They decided to park near tourists and rent snowmobiles as it would be easier to investigate the crash site without causing a distraction.

As it neared dark, the duo drove the snowmobiles out to the site and began searching in the snow for the remains. After two hours, they became discouraged as nothing was found and the EMF was useless as it wouldn't stop beeping.

"I just remembered that we needed to check over there since that's where 'The Big Bopper' was found," Dean pointed, turning the EMF back on.

"Was he thrown all the way over here?" Sam inquired, searching the area.

"Yeah, the story goes on to say that he was crawling to get help," Dean stated, "But, no one really knows."

After an intense search, the brothers were about to give up when they heard the eerie whine of a plane having problems. As they searched the sky, they saw the transparent, shimmering outline of a small plane. They had no doubts this was the ghost plane that had been haunting the area for four decades.

After the 'plane' had 'crashed', the screaming began, and the hunters ran toward it. They searched most of the area and finally found the source. A young man was on his knees praying and yelling for help.

"Sir, we're here to assist you…in your endeavor to move on," Sam politely remarked as he turned around.

"My plane crashed…there's victims!" he shouted. "Go get help…a doctor!"

Sam cleared his throat after trading glances with his brother. "Sir, they're dead…and I'm afraid, so are you."

"No, I'm not!" he shrieked. "And neither are they! Please help us!"

"My name is Sam Winchester and this is my brother, Dean," he said, walking toward the ghost. "What's your name?"

"Steve…Steve McDaniel…I'm the pilot."

"Well Steve, my brother's right, so we need to help you move on," Dean stated.

Steve began looking himself over and he was a mess as tears soon fell hard. "We're all dead…"

Both brothers nodded as he began to sob more and curse at the sky. "But why…why us? Why them? Oh God, this was all **_my _**fault."

"It was an accident…no one's fault but the weather's," Sam replied, very glad he had read stories on the way about the most famous crash in American history.

"What do I do now?" Steve asked, as the brothers glanced at one another again.

Sam quietly replied, "You need to find the light…the light to bring you to peace. I know it must be scary, but I promise you'll be happy and healed. And so will your family…they love you very much and would hate for you to be in pain…physically and emotionally."

Dean was amazed how calm and reassuring his brother was and almost regretted calling him sissy about how sensitive he was. Sam always wore his caring heart on his sleeve and often listened as others shared their feelings.

Steve looked around. "I see it…it's a beautiful bright light. What should I do?"

"Walk into it and follow it to happiness," Sam replied with a small smile.

"Will they be there too?" Steve asked, pointing to the wreckage.

"Of course," the young hunter remarked. "I bet they're entertaining all with their singing and they'll be relieved to see you."

"Tell my family that I love them too," Steve said, walking toward it. "And thank you for helping me." With that said, Steve disappeared into the air as the area soon became peaceful.

"I think he's gone," Sam said as he looked around.

"Yeah, thanks to you."

Sam shrugged. "I just told him what he wanted to hear."

"Well, you were awesome."

Sam smiled. "What now?"

"I dunno…go back to town?"

"I saw flyers for a concert so we could go and listen to some to rock 'n' roll," Sam suggested.

Dean laughed, "Are ya mocking me, man?"

"No…uh, you were right," Sam admitted. "It's music history and I need to learn from the pioneers, so let's stay for the tributes."

"Yeah, let's stay."

Walking back to the snowmobiles, the brothers loudly sang:

"_A long long time ago  
I can still remember  
How that music used to make me smile  
And I knew if I had my chance  
That I could make those people dance  
And maybe they'd be happy for a while  
But February made me shiver  
With every paper I'd deliver  
Bad news on the doorstep  
I couldn't take one more step  
I can't remember if I cried  
When I read about his widowed bride  
But something touched me deep inside  
The day the music died _

_So bye, bye Miss American Pie  
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry  
And them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye  
Singing this'll be the day that I die  
This'll be the day that I die…"_

The End


End file.
